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by developingourwings



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-30
Updated: 2014-05-30
Packaged: 2018-01-27 14:16:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1713602
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/developingourwings/pseuds/developingourwings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been five years since the brothers saw each other, now they've come together for their father's funeral. But Dean has a few things he's been keeping from Sam that it's time he shared.</p>
            </blockquote>





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**Author's Note:**

> *This was originally written as part of a portfolio for a writing class so any deviations from character were to steer clear of plagiarism.
> 
> **I am still playing with this piece, but any changes will be to add more on to the end or in between the existing scenes, no changes to what's here now.

The muddy, brown earth of the freshly dug grave stood out against the bright green of the surrounding grass. The sides were so smooth it looked like they had been cut by a knife rather than a backhoe and shovels. _Precise. Just how he would like it._ Dean thought to himself.  A small group of black clad mourners surrounded the grave like ants around a hill. Dean looked for one particular face in the sea of downcast, grey expressions. Every so often there was the gleam of badges and medals on the dress uniforms of the policemen there. Dean’s own uniform was polished to a perfect shine. He’d spent most of the night buffing every last button and pin until they glowed. They didn’t need it, but he couldn’t sleep and it gave his hands something to do. Cas had tried to convince him, while rubbing Dean’s shoulders gently, that it looked fine and that he should come to bed. He glanced over to the front row were Cas was sitting as he thought. With each new face, the people blurred together until they became one shivering mass. As people were settling in to the rickety rows of folding chairs set up by the gravesite, Dean found him. It was just like Sammy to show up last minute. Even to their father’s funeral. Especially then.

Dean picked his way through the tide and went to meet his brother. Sam was wearing a suit that, for once, didn’t make him look like a professor, which was surprising. It was immaculately pressed and fitted his long lean frame perfectly. His hair was much longer than the last time Dean had seen it, just tickling Sammy’s earlobes. It suited his long pointed features somehow. His own hair was a tightly trimmed military style cut, as it always had been for as long as he could remember. The brothers nodded towards each other in lieu of greeting.

“Nice of you to show up, Sammy.” Dean said sharply. He’d repeated the time at least twice on the phone when he’d called days before. Sammy let out a breath and looked at the ground, poking at a weed with the toe of his shiny leather shoe.

“I’m not a little kid anymore, don’t call me Sammy,” he blurted out reflexively, then paused a moment before saying, “I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Jess’s in Egypt getting a piece for the museum, I haven’t been able to tell her yet.”

Dean’s thoughts flitted to the last time they’d seen each other. It had been five years ago, the day Sammy had packed his things up and gone to college. Well, that’s how Dean explained it to people. Really, their father had kicked Sammy out for wanting to go to school to study history instead of joining the force like Dean. After he had finished screaming at Sammy about how useless he was, their father had left the room and refused to acknowledge him. Sammy was gone by morning, taking only what would fit in the backseat of his Ford. Dean had quietly packed up the rest and put it in the attic next to their mother’s things.

They had stayed in touch, speaking on the phone over the years, never completely losing contact, but it was no where near the same as before. Their lives went different ways, Sammy finished school and got a job working in a museum where he met his fiancee, Jess. Dean graduated from the police academy and quickly rose through the ranks, wheels greased by his father no doubt, and became a detective.

“Yeah, well, what can you do?” Dean shrugged. Sam picked at the hole he was making with his toe and, sensing the presence of another person, and looked up. Behind Dean was a man Sam had never seen before. He looked to be about the same age as Dean and was tall and quite lean underneath his carefully pressed suit. His dark, curly hair was carefully manicured. Despite his obviously careful appearance he had a ruffled quality to him, like a cat still puffed up after a fright.

Dean, noticing his brother’s attention to the stranger, cleared his throat roughly, “This is Cas.”

“It’s really nice of you to come. You knew our dad, then?” Sam asked politely. Cas had moved to stand by Dean’s side, opened his mouth as if to answer, but then looked at Dean. The two shared a brief glance and Dean replied,

“I was hoping to do this after we buried the old man, but since you asked, he’s here with me.” He kept his eyes on Sam waiting for a reaction.

“Well, of course he’s here with you. Who else would he be here with?”

“No, Sammy. I mean, Cas’s here _with_ me.” He continued to watch Sam’s face. Sam just stared, forehead furrowed in confusion. “Dammit, this was a horrible idea!” Dean raised a hand and rubbed at the back of his neck, as if his collar was chaffing and not the situation.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to tell him now. It can wait until later” Cas said quietly, trying to diffuse the tension. People in the chairs nearest the brothers were starting to look over in interest.

“No,” he said to Cas and turned back to Sam, “Dammit, Sammy! Do I have to spell it out for you? You’re supposed to be a smart guy. Cas is my boyfriend, okay?” The last word sounded more like a threat than a question.

Sam stood completely still, trying desperately to get his mouth to form even a single word. “Oh” was all he could manage. 

Dean sighed, rolling his eyes, “Oh great, he’s in shock. That’s fantastic,” he took a step toward his brother, ready to slap him if it was required.

“You don’t need to hit me,” Sam said, noticing he brother’s raised hand, “I’m just a little surprised is all. How long have you guys, um, how long have you been together?”

“Well, this is going great. Can we just go bury Dad, and then we can talk about how long I’ve been shacking up with Cas afterwards?” He put an arm around Sam’s shoulder and guided him towards the first row of chairs. Cas quietly kept pace on Dean’s other side.

The service opened with a speech from Dean.

“My father was never really one for emotions, but he loved being a police officer. He took great pride in protecting and serving his city. Most of you here have worked with him, or were trained by him. He probably recruited half of the city’s officer. One of his favorite things was to talk to young hopefuls about becoming a police officer. He loved recruiting, I mean, he even recruited me,” Dean laughed quietly to himself and met Sam’s stony gaze. He shifted his weight and cleared his throat before continuing, “As much as he loved his job, he loved my mom more,” his voice hitched, “And, uh, now, finally, they get to be together again,” He finished huskily. He walked quickly back to his seat, head down. 

The rest of the service passed with all the required grandness of a police chief’s funeral. Several of the younger officers spoke about how much he had influenced their careers. The older ones, about his experience and dedication, especially after the death of his wife.

Dean shifted uncomfortably and was clenching and unclenching his fist methodically. Cas reached over automatically and rubbed his thumb over Dean’s hand in soothingly circles. Dean relaxed momentarily. Then, Sam noticed the exchange and Dean carefully folded his arms. Cas, returned his hand to his own lap and squinted sideways at Sam.

After the speeches, a minister gave the usual “going on to a better place” and “meeting loved ones” speech that he probably used for every funeral. Dean was still tense, but not nearly as agitated as before. He sat arms folded tightly, back straight, and feet planted on the grass. Sam alternating between running a hand through his hair and bouncing his leg up and down.

The boys had never seen eye to eye where their father was concerned. He was a difficult man to get along with at the best of times, and the unexpected loss of his wife, leaving him two young boys to raise had not made things any easier on any of them. He’d become overly strict and set in his ways at the young age of thirty-something. Despite their occasional rebellions, as is to be expected from growing boys, they both finished high in their class and went on to be successful in their respective careers as well.

After the service, when all the condolences had been accepted and everyone thanked for their attendance Sam homed in on his brother. He was on the far side of the rows of chairs being patted on the back by an old police buddy of their dad’s. Cas stood quietly to the side, hands clasped in front of him. The hunched old man was one of the last to leave, when he was far enough off Sam stormed over to his brother. Dean had his back to Sam as he approached, but Cas gently touched his shoulder and he turned to face the oncoming wrath.

 “What the hell were you thinking? You’d just bring your boyfriend to Dad’s funeral and that would be a good time to tell me? How long have you been keeping this from me?” 

“I wasn’t _keeping_ anything from you, I just didn’t tell you. It’s not like I had some big gay epiphany and went running through the streets naked.” 

“Naked, really Dean?” Sam snorted in disgust, “Well that makes it so much better. At least it wasn’t an epiphany, that’s alright then.” Sam shrugged his shoulders sarcastically. “I don’t even care that you’re gay. Whatever. But, why didn’t you tell me? I called you when Jess moved in, and when I was thinking of proposing. You can’t pick up the phone and say ‘Hey, I’ve got a new boyfriend’? I mean, Dean, it’s not like I didn’t know you were gay.” 

“I wanted to but I-,” Dean stopped as Sam’s words registered, eyebrows knotting in confusion. “What do you mean you knew? I didn’t know, how could you know?” Dean asked pointing a finger at Sam. 

“Dude, I’m your brother. Of course I knew.” 

It was Dean’s turn to stutter wordlessly. He rubbed his forehead and growled quietly in frustration. He turned to Cas and said, “Maybe you should go get the car.” Cas raised his eyebrows in question and glanced towards Sam, “It’s okay.” Dean reassured, tossing him the keys. He watched as Cas picked his way through the headstones to the path where they had parked the car and then turned back towards his brother. 

“Look, I don’t really understand it very well myself, but he makes me happy. I brought him because I could use that today.” Dean’s whole body relaxed a little as he spoke, shoulders lowering, jaw unclenching.

“And I’m happy for you. I really am,” Sam said, not sounding very happy at all. 

“I know springing it on you like this was a dick move, but it just seemed like a good idea at the time. If I’d thought you’d have a fucking stroke I wouldn’t have.”

“I was just really surprised is all. I thought you’d have mentioned something like that.” he said sadly, looked down at the grass again, “So, you gonna formally introduce me to your boyfriend or what?”, he asked putting on his best puppy face.

“See that, that right there, that face is the real reason I didn’t tell you.” Dean pushed him away playfully, “How about we grab some food? All three of us.”

 

* * *

 

Ellen’s Diner was across the street from the police station. The boys had practically grown up there, spending their afternoons doing homework in the corner booth and eating complimentary pie until their dad would come over to pick them up or send someone to take them home. One of those afternoons they had snuck under the booth and carved their initials into the underside of the table, marking it as their own for eternity, or until they remodeled the place, which seemed unlikely. In the twenty something years they’d been going to Ellen’s the decor had never changed. The walls were a color paper that must have at some point been bright white, but were now a yellowed ivory, with thin black stripes that were now a blueish grey. The red curtains were spotted with grease stains and cigarette burns and the vinyl booth seats had been worn down by the round backsides of decades of the police that frequented the diner.

The boys automatically went to opposite sides of the booth. Dean with his back to the wall, so he could see the entire room, and Sam on the side facing the kitchen’s swinging door. When he was younger he would climb on the back of the booth like a perch and watch the business of the kitchen. Sometimes he’d arm himself with a straw gun and pelt the unsuspecting waitstaff with paper pellets as they passed. Dean had taught him that if he got the paper really wet with spit, they would stick when they hit.

Sam slid into his side of the booth and watched as, with the kind of synchronicity that comes from spending extended periods of time with someone, Dean and Cas paused to remove their suit jackets and place them over the back of the booth before sitting down. “Sorry, it’s just, you know I hate these monkey suits.” Dean said. The waitress hadn’t bothered to give Sam or Dean menus. The boys had stopped needing them back in grade school. Dean always got a bacon cheeseburger with extra bacon and Sam always got a regular hamburger with no tomatoes. Cas rolled up the sleeves of his shirt as he thought. Several tattoos uncovered themselves. Bands of script in what appeared to be several foreign languages wrapped around the forearms and elbows of both arms. The letters danced and shifted with the movement of the muscles underneath as he handed the menu back to the waitress and gave her his order. He ordered a plain hamburger and a strawberry milkshake. Sam listened to him order, one eyebrow raised.

“The usual, Jo.” Dean said nodding at the waitress. She smiled at them and headed through the door to the kitchen. 

“Nice tattoos,” Sam nodded towards Cas.

“Thank you,” Cas replied gruffly as he loosened his tie, revealing another tattoo creeping up his neck, this one looked like feathers, wings maybe. Sam eyed the ink inquisitively, and filed it away for another time.

“So, how long have you guys been together?” Sam asked as he unwrapped his straw. Dean sighed, expecting the question.

“Uh, almost a year, I think,” he looked to Cas for confirmation who shrugged his shoulders and nodded, “A year, I guess then.”

“Honestly Dean, that’s more surprising. I’ve never known you to date anyone longer than a few weeks. How’d you meet?”

“What is this, an interrogation? Those are usually my job. And I dated Lisa for a whole month,” Dean protested, “I teach an open defense classes at the station, anyone from the department can take it. This one day a string bean in basketball shorts shows up to my class. So I give him an easier partner to work with and don’t try to teach him anything too difficult, because I figured a guy like him’s got asthma or something too. The whole class he just goes along with it, seems like he’s barely making it through, but he’s keeping up. The last thing I always do is have everyone go against me to really test their skills. It gets to his turn and I’m trying not to hurt him too badly and the guy knocks me out with a roundhouse to the face, and I mean, knocked out cold.”

“In my defense, I wasn’t actually aiming for your face, that was an accident.” Cas smiled over at Dean. He looking very proud of himself all the same. Just then their food arrived. Dean eyed Sam’s plain burger with distaste and proceeded to dump ketchup onto his burger before passing the bottle to Cas for him to do the same. The two worked in almost perfect tandem, Cas knowing when to hold out his hand and Dean holding the bottle in just the right spot for Cas to take it without looking away from his hamburger. 

“I’m impressed.” Sam said, giving Cas a once over and nodding in approval, “Remind me not to piss you off.” He took a bite of his burger and chewed for a moment before asking, “Don’t take this the wrong way but, uh, how did you guys happen? I mean, no offense Cas. I like you, but Dean,” He trailed off, the question hanging between them. 

Dean flexed the muscle in his jaw and was quiet for a moment before he spoke, trying to get the words just right. “I don’t know man, I’ve been with a lot of girls, but something about this just feels right. I don’t know how to explain it. He’s the best thing that ever happened. God, that sounds so sappy. He doesn’t put up with my shit, he calls me out on it. But he makes me talk about things too. Like this,” he gestured to Sam and himself, “It was his idea to talk to you at the funeral. Well, not exactly. He said if I hadn’t told you by then you’d find out. “Dude, we’re talking about feelings! That’s crazy, but it’s happening. I’m still not sure, mostly I try not to question it too much. I mean, we’re sure as hell not going to start braiding each other’s hair and singing Kumbaya, but even I can see this is better than one night stands and constant hangovers.” Dean stretched his arm around Cas and rubbed his shoulder affectionately. Sam smiled. Despite the initial strangeness of the gesture, it seemed like the most natural thing he’d ever seen his brother do.

Cas finally spoke up, “If it helps you at all, this is weird for me too. I was the same as him, well with more feelings to start with,” he smirked, “But I’d only ever dated girls too. It’s just - it makes sense. Believe me, it was plenty awkward to start with, we didn’t really know what was happening or what to think about it, but we figured it out and when we’re together it feels like home. If that helps at all.” He tilted his head in his idiosyncratic way and watched Sam’s face carefully. 

Sam was nodding his head weakly, as if that would help him process everything. His forehead creased once more in thought. He rubbed a hand over his face, his stubble rasping dryly. “I’m - wow, this is really great. I’m so happy for you guys, I mean it. And Dad? Did you tell him?” Dean dropped his gaze to his plate and picked at his burger, “You really thought he wouldn’t have been okay with you being happy? I mean, I know he was super old school, but you’re you. You’re his favorite.” It certainly was an adjustment at first, but he understood how his brother could be happy with this tousled, inked up guy sitting next to him. But, he could not even begin to decipher why his brother, the golden child, thought anything he did would make their father unhappy.

“Do you honestly think that? You really believe that I was his favorite? I tried so hard, was still trying, right up until he had that stroke, to get his approval. I was top of my class in the fucking academy and he still couldn’t tell me he was proud. Do you really think that makes me his favorite?” He cleared his throat and rubbed at his face, “Dammit Sammy, do we have to do this here?”

“I am twenty-five and engaged, would you stop calling me that?” He declared, more than asked. He’d been telling Dean not to call him that since they were in high school. “I mean, he would have been pissed for a while, maybe a long time, but I think he would have come around eventually.” 

“Yeah, well, I guess we’ll never know now.” Dean said after a long pause. It was quiet for a while after that. Sam picked at his food while Dean methodically ripped apart his napkin, making it snow bits of paper on the greasy table. Cas took one of Dean’d hands into both of his and held it still. There was an absolute sureness in the motion. Sam looked up from his plate, seeing their hands and grinned. He still wasn’t over the novelty of looking at his brother with Cas. Feeling his was being watched, Cas glanced up and then elbowed Dean in the ribs lightly to make him look as well. Dean glanced up quickly and rolled his eyes.

“Would you stop grinning like an idiot Sammy? You look ridiculous. What? Have you never seen two guys hold hands?” When Sam kept smiling he added, “See, now you’re making it weird, and I’m the one holding hands with another guy.” Cas started laughing too, quietly at first, like he was trying to hold it in, and then louder when Dean sighed in exasperation, shaking his head but smiling all the same.

“Hey! Ellen, can I get some pie for me and the two hyenas here!” Dean called to the woman leaning on the counter. She brought over three slices of apple pie with big dollops of whipped cream on each. The laughter quieted as the three tucked into their pie. The only sound for a while was the scraping of forks on plates. 

“I still can’t believe you knew all along,” Dean said through a mouthful of pie, shaking his head in disbelief 

The three sat for a while, finishing their pie. Ellen had come by the table to collect their plates and drop off cups of coffee. Sam sat warming his hands on his cup for a moment before asking, “You don't have any other surprises, right? Because I don’t know if I can handle anymore.”

Dean and Cas looked at each other briefly before Dean turned to Sam and sheepishly said, “Actually, uh, I’m kind of going back to school.” He looked off into the corner of the room, avoiding looking at Sammy.

“What, that’s great! What are you going for? Criminal Justice?” 

“No, actually, I’m looking at going for sculpting.” Dean said with a completely straight face.

“That’s — um, that’s nice,” Sam managed before Dean cut him off.

“Geez, Sammy. I was kidding. I’m going for nursing” 

“Oh thank God,” Sam sighed. “I was trying to figure out how to be supportive of that.” Cas smiled and then added, “We shouldn’t be laughing so much, you did just bury your father.” 

Dean’s face turned serious again. He called over to Ellen standing behind the counter, “Hey! You got any whiskey tucked away somewhere,”

Ellen gave him the same look she had been giving him for years, “No, Dean. If you want booze, you gotta go down the street to the bar.” 

“Come on then,” Dean said as he counted out bills and tossed them on the table. “Let’s go pour one out for Dad.” His tone was still playful, but his face was clouded over. They headed down the street towards Bobby’s, their dad’s favorite bar. Sam kept looking sideways to watch Dean and Cas. His brother had one arm around Cas’s shoulders and Cas’s head leaned into Dean as they walked.


End file.
